


I can almost remember

by MadamBlack91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamBlack91/pseuds/MadamBlack91
Summary: I can almost remember. It feels like I'm drowning. Are you mine?
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger
Comments: 15
Kudos: 69





	I can almost remember

Unfurling herself from around her pillows, she stretched the muscles in her back and legs. The sound of her back popping brought pleasure all the way down to her toes. Getting older sucked in ways that she didn't know when she was young and full of energy. Not that she was considered old in the wizarding world but being in her 40's felt old to her.

Pulling the sheets off her body, she shucked her night shirt over her head and stepped into her bathroom. Setting the temperature in the shower to almost scalding, she climbed into the tub and began her morning routine. Nik would need to be up soon, breakfast would need to be made and then she could take her son to Ginny's for the day before heading to St. Mongo's to start her rounds.

After her hair was washed and conditioned, she stepped from out of the shower in search of her scrubs. Throwing on her clothes and leaving the comfort of her room, she traipsed down the hall to wake her sweet boy. Curled up in his deep blue handmade quilt, Nik had dark as pitch hair that settled in waves around his ears and skin the color of buttermilk. The freckles that lined his nose and cheeks along with the dark lashes that many a woman had been jealous of, made him look like a perfect option for male modeling in the muggle world. She needed to remind herself to ask Harry for extra wards soon to keep the young girls away.

"Nik, darling," she gently shook her boy to rouse him. "It's time to get up, love."

"Yeshche ne, mama." he mumbled and rolled over on his back.

"You have ten minutes, Nikki or I'm dumping water on your head. That's a threat."

Her boy grunted before sliding his hands through his hair and sitting up. At 16, he was built bigger than his father and a giant compared to Hermione. But he knew when to push his mother and when to just do as he was told.

"Shower and dress. I'll make breakfast,"and she spun on her heel to head to the kitchen.

"I'm old enough to stay at home, mama. James and Albus stay at home by themselves all the time," he pleaded as he followed her down the hall.

She shuffled to the refrigerator and pulled out eggs and sausage to begin the meal while Nik put together the coffee. Shoving a k-cup into the tiny maker, he sighed.  
"Please mama, I can stay here and do homework instead of listening to Albus practice his jokes and Lily's singing makes my ears bleed."

"Honey, I know you think you are old enough and to a degree you are. But do you remember what happened last year when Albus caught the drapes on fire trying to use the microwave when your Aunt stepped out for just a minute to get milk? The whole house was filled with smoke!" she exclaimed.

Nik rubbed at his face with his hands in exasperation. "I am not Albus, Mama. I know how to use a microwave. And I'm not a dunderhead. Plus I have my phone. If I need you, I can call."

Setting the fresh cup of coffee into his mothers hands, he pouted his full lips and batted his eyes. "Please, Mama."

Hermione giggled at his playfulness before flipping her sons over easy eggs.

"I suppose, if you promise to behave..."

"I promise! I'll even meet you for lunch at the hospital if you wish."

"I suppose that's fine. But make sure you pronounce your destination clearly when you step into the floo. You know what happens when you fumble with the words."

"Again Mama, I'm not a dunderhead," he laughed behind his cup.

By the time lunch came around, Hermione had treated one case of dragon pox, an odd case of accidental magic where a toddler's whole hand was stuck to his kids broom because he didn't want to share with his sister, an oddly muggle case of jellybeans up the nose and two sets of splinching by a couple of drunk wizards who were celebrating a full week of stag nights. How anyone could stay drunk for a whole week was beyond Hermione but she helped the soon to be married man regrow a pinky toe and patched up the elbow of his best man, reminded them to keep hydrated and sent them on their way.

She was finishing up some paperwork about the grown man with Bertie Botts Beans up his nose, when Nikolai found her.

"Lunch?" he whispered, "Or papa first?"

She looked deep into her son's eyes checking for sadness or vulnerability at the thought of checking on his father. Seeing neither, she came around the nurses desk and kissed his cheek.

"Your papa first I think. That way he can join us if he likes."

Dementia was uncommon in the wizarding world. Magic was thought to be the cure all for every ailment, no matter how big or small the case. But that was definitely not true. Multiple things couldn't be cured with magic. Cancer, Anemia, Autism, Depression, all real battles and all wholly different for one another, except that they couldn't be cured with magic. At first, she had thought he had anxiety, which after the war and after his time spent in Azkaban that wouldn't have surprised her in the slightest. But strange things started popping up that she couldn't figure out. He would forget words in the middle of a conversation, he started having trouble holding his favorite tea cup. Small things that started to get more pronounced. The morning he woke up and had no recollection of her or their marriage and son, she called for backup.

No matter how many books she fluttered through, no matter how many skilled professionals she spoke to and traded correspondents with, she didn't understand. How could the man she loved, the man who worshipped her mind and body, the man who gave her the most glorious son, not remember her name? Distraught was putting how she felt mildly. Her husband was there under the surface somewhere, but he couldn't always tap into it. Fleeting moments of lucid life was all that she was gifted with now.

After consulting with a couple of Healers that she knew had specialized in Mind Healing, they decided that keeping him at the Janice Thickery Ward would be best for him and for her. Somedays the confusion made him angry and even when she took his wand, he was still larger than her. She hated using magic against him when he was scared, so she reluctantly agreed. At least this way, she wouldn't be his enemy.

She held tight to Nikolai's hand as they made the trip down the ugly linoleum hallway toward her husband room. Taking a deep breath before her son pushed open the door, she put on the brightest smile she could muster.

"Privet, papa," her son greated him.

Antonin Dolohov sat at a little table on the other side of his bed, trying to keep his tea cup from rattling in his hands. His long fingers were wrapped around the cup as if his life depended on it while his grey eyes lifted to his son in confusion. His hair was wavy and Hermione remember playing with the soft tresses fondly. His eyes widened when he met her gaze and he sat his cup down with a harsh clang.

"Pchelka, where have you been?" he asked her excitedly, "I've been trying to tell the nurses I'm fine now and I can come home to you. I know that Teddy knocked into me on accident but I'm fine and I want to go home. Look not even a scar," he told her triumphantly and showed her his palm.

Hermione's smile dropped momentarily. He thought he was 15 years younger. She remembered the day he spoke of, Teddy's birthday party at Harry's when Teddy accidentally ran into his Uncle Ant trying to learn to ride the new broom he was given for the occasion. Antonin had tried to catch him before he could fall and Teddy lost control of the blasted thing, cutting Antonin's palm and breaking his wrist.

Regaining her bearings, Hermione plastered on another smile for her husband.

"Darling, would you like to come to lunch with us? Nikolai and I would like to visit with you before he goes back to Hogwarts for his sixth year." she explained slowly, hoping he caught on.

"Sixth year...Merlin...My Nikki?" He was flustered and he squeezed his hands together in a vice grip. "Yes...Lunch. Of course, Pchelka."

Nik stepped closer to his father to help him stand, while his father checked him over, searching his eyes and build as if to find an illusion within the boy holding his arm.

"You are beautiful, synok. Not my little one any longer," Antonin's voice cracked at the last, his Russian accent breaking over the syllables.

Nikolai looked at his father with a bright smile. "I'll always be your little one, Papa. No matter how old I get, I will still be your boy, yes?"

Antonin's eyes glistened when he answered, "Da, always my boy. Now we must feed your mother. Look how small she is, Nikolai. No Dolohov should ever be so tiny."

Hermione glared at her husband. He always complained about her stature out loud but she knew better than that. He loved to pick her up and place her on the counter, the table, anywhere within reach and ravish her. He liked that he could lift her easily and that she fit in the bend of his body when he slept, with her head beneath his chin and her feet twisted between his calves.  
"Don't look at me like that, Mine. You are so tiny," he laughed as her boys pushed past her for the hallway, Nikolai laughing along with his Papa.

"You're so bullheaded, Antonin. When Nik's back is turned I'm getting you back for that," she scoffed at him but deep inside she was elated. He was lucid enough for now, and she missed him deep within her bones.

Antonin threw her a wink over his shoulder. "You act like I won't like whatever it is your big brain has planned, wife."

"Ok, ew. I'm right here." her son declared as they headed toward the lift.

Hermione and Antonin laughed when their son's cheeks burned red.

When they made it to the cafeteria, Nikolai went to get their food so his parents could have a moment. When he made it to the line and proceeded to make his order, Antonin looked at Hermione. Really looked at her.

"How long?" he asked.

"It'll be almost 10 years this coming June." she told him softly. He always asked and she never lied to him. She didn't know how to lie to him. It was impossible, even if the lie would make him feel better.

"And yet you still come, Mine? You could have divorced me due to illness and left. You could have someone love you now, where I cannot. No the way you deserve."

"I take my vows to you very seriously, Antonin. Till death, sickness and health, forever and always. I made you a promise that I intend to keep. I am yours and you are mine. Even when you don't remember, I do." Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and prayed the tears wouldn't spill over. "There will never be another. Only ever you."

Antonin looked distraught at her announcement before asking her another question.

"How many times have we had this conversation?"

"Too many to count. And I always win." she added with a small smile.

"Haven't you always, Mine?"

Nikolai came back with their lunch and father and son discussed his new school year while Antonin moved his food around on his plate. They discussed which position on a Quidditch team was better, why that hadn't come out with better beater bats when the ones they had out always splintered after a good hard wack. When the conversation turned to girls, Hermione listened intently to her husband tell their son important life lessons that one needs to learn from their father.

"But I'm not dating yet, Papa. I don't see why we need to have this conversation now..."

"How many more months until you are seeing a girl though, synok? And will I be of sound mind when I need to tell you these things? You need to know them."

Nikolai rolled his eyes but gave his father his full attention anyways.

"Not all women are created equal. Some will want you to baby them and spoil them. Some will be a never ending battle of wills. Some will be able to take care of themselves, no help from a man needed. Your mother is all three so it was difficult for me, you understand?" Hermione was the one to roll her eyes this time but didn't interrupt as her husband continued. "No matter the kind of woman you like, you will treat them with respect, da? No means no and if I find out that you did anything untoward, I will sick your mother on you."

"You act like I'm an attack dog", she countered.

"Aren't you, Mine?" That damn grin had had lost her alot of fights over the years. Cheeky git.

"No matter what, you must always be kind. But make sure you think long and hard about your feelings for someone before you act. Nothing is more painful than heartbreak, Nikolai. It's like drowning, and I won't have you purposely hurting someone's heart. It's not fair. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Nikolai's face was scrunched up in his normal thinking fashion.

Hermione tried to make it easier for him to understand. "What your father means is don't play with people's feelings. Make sure you love someone before taking certain steps. Sex is something that cannot be erased or undone. Feelings get tangled when sex is involved." Nikolai's face turned a bit green at the mention of sex but didn't say anything.

"Da, and make sure that whomever you choose to spend your life with...is nothing like your mother. She drives me crazy you know, so bossy and nosey. Hate to find yourself in the same position." Hermione threw her spoon at him.

"You git."

"Da, Mine but I make you smile." he told her with a laugh.

"You two are weird," Nikolai stated before he excused himself to find some pudding.

Antonin smiled at his son and tried to pick up his cup, but his fingers were shaking uncontrollably. Hermione pushed away from the table to sit next to her husband and helped him take a sip. When she sat the cup back down Antonin grabbed her fingers as best he could.

"Pchelka, we need to talk."

The words of death. The absolute worst set of words that could ever pass a humans lips. Hermione's heart stuttered in her chest and a sweat broke out on her upper lip. His diagnosis hadn't been as scary as those words.

"Ok."

He kissed her knuckles before tucking a curl behind her ear.

"I love you, Pchelka. I love you so much I can feel it in my bones. Even on my darkest days, I can almost remember the way you smile, the way you smell. I miss you even when I don't remember you. Look at what you gave me," he gestured to Nikolai who was speaking with the cashier, "He is so beautiful, Mine and you made him for me. And I don't remember any of it except when he was no bigger than my knee. How can I be a proper husband and a Papa if I don't remember?"

His face screwed up as if in pain and he brought her hands to his face. Tears leaked unbidden down his cheeks. It pained her to know that he was hurting emotionally. Antonin had always been a man of little words and rare moments of emotion. Being raised to put his emotions aside and be a strong man for his wife to rely on was a hard lesson for him to unlearn. That he could rely on her too was a hard reality he had to face when his diagnosis became more pronounced. She quickly wiped his tears with her thumb to let him know she was there. And she always would be.

"I understand, Antonin but you teach him everyday. We teach him everyday, that loving one another is something to keep fighting for, even when it's hard. You taught him how to ride his first broom, how to tie his shoes, how to be a good father someday to his sons. You taught him how to be a friend, a husband. You just taught him how to be a man. He will remember your words everyday."

"And what about you, Mine? How am I good to you?" His dark eyes were so focused on her that she lost her breath. He was so beautiful and so intense.

"You are so good to me, Antonin. I have never been more happy than when I'm with you," she told him honestly. "You chased me for years before I agreed to one date. One date that you tried to put as many cliches into as possible," she laughed.

"Wait, you mean you didn't like the picnic with the flowers and chocolate, Mine?" His small smile pulled at his cheeks just a bit.

"Oh I never said i didn't like it, but the movie and then dinner out was really pushing it." she giggled.

"Hey now, you are lucky I even know what a movie was at that time. Plus you said one date and I had to pull out all the stops. Make you want to see what else I had in store," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You're a dirty old man, Antonin."

"And yet you married me."

"And I would do it again in a heartbeat. You have made my life so bright and full that I will never regret a single thing. Not one fight, not one tear and definitely not one late night were we didn't sleep to make up."

"I knew you only married me for what was in my pants," he sighed dramatically.

Standing from her seat, she brushed a kiss on his lips before pulling him up beside her to escort him back to his room. Nik came to help them after he quickly ate his pudding and depositing the trash in the bin.

Nikolai stayed for a bit longer after helping his father into bed to ask him a couple of questions about his days as a curse breaker before leaving his parents to head home and finish his Arithmacy homework. Hermione climbed into the twin size bed with her husband after sending a memo to say she would be out for the rest of the day. Any time she got to spend with her husband while he was lucid was precious.

They laid together for awhile just listening to the other breath and the matched beating of their hearts. When Hermione raised her head to kiss her husband, he pulled her closer deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue across her own. When she pulled back to study his face, his tears fell from his eyes once more.

"Who are you?" he asked her quietly.

Hermione's heart broke all over again. The need to break down and cry was overwhelming and heavy. But she pushed it back, deep inside her heart.  
Swallowing thickly, she answered him.

"Hermione Jean Dolohov."

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"That's my name, Dolohov. Antonin Dolohov. How strange." He looked to be deep in thought for awhile before he continued on. "I can almost remember you. It feels like I'm drowning. Are you mine?" He studied her face intently before bring a hand to her curls, sliding his fingers in the mess.

Tears fell gently passed her eyelashes, no matter how hard she pushed them down and willed them away.

"I will always be yours and you are mine." She kissed his forehead softly before rising from his bed. "I'll be back tomorrow, ok? Be good, Antonin."

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, comment, comment. Let me know what you think, feel, have questions. One-shot


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